Author: Tanya

There is an ongoing conversation at my house that starts with, “Why can’t I get my shit together?” Now I don’t know from the outside looking in that anyone would think I don’t have my shit together. I go to work, pay my bills, walk the dog, cook real food, clean my house (not as well as I might like to, but I do), vote. So yeah, by today’s standards I am probably pretty on top of it. The problem is I don’t feel like that on the inside. During that 15 minutes of quiet time I spend with exactly two cups of coffee in the morning, as I go through the never-ending to-do list that is my life, “What can I get done today?” And then I panic. Because I know the answer is probably going to be, “Nothing.” At least nothing that I want to get done, nothing that I feel I need to get done.

It’s as if my life has become a continuing reaction to whatever the Universe throws my way. I’m not OK with that. I would like a say in how my day goes. I’m not saying I believe I can control the Universe. I’m just saying it would nice to have a routine. I would like to be able to say, today I’m going to go to work and accomplish something. Then I am going to come home and I’m going to practice that yoga routine I keep thinking about and cook something really health and only eat one serving. Then I’m going to take that bath I’ve been talking about for 6 months with a glass of wine. Then I’m going to read a chapter in one of the 6 books I’ve started and not finished and get 8 hours of sleep. Sounds so easy. So why don’t I?

Because work stinks and I end up dealing with other people’s work all day while mine piles up. Then I get home and remember my dog needs a walk. Then I look at my closet and think, I should probably at least do a load of laundry. And I cook two meals because my husband doesn’t like tofu. Then I realize we are out of coffee so I need to run to the grocery store. Then I make the mistake of sitting down with my phone and start scrolling through Instagram or Pinterest and before I know it’s 10:00PM and I’ve done none of those things I wanted to do. Again.

The thing is, I love walking my dog. I love cooking for my husband. I love scrolling through Instagram and Pinterest at the end of the day because it’s relaxing. So what’s the problem? Why do I feel like I’m not doing what I should be doing? Why am I so hard on myself?

Maybe life isn’t about getting the to-do list done and that all those people on Facebook and Instagram are just full of shit if they say they are. I can’t blame the Facebook folks for putting their best face (selfie?) forward. No one wants to air their dirty laundry online for complete strangers to judge. But isn’t that the risk of putting yourself out there to begin with? There is something that just feels inherently dishonest about most of what I’ve seen. Maybe it’s about what the poster gets out of it. Do they feel better about themselves when they look at their page full of picture perfect lives; brilliant children and perfect relationships all in the most favorable filter? Hey why not? What is a “like” if not instant gratification? I guess I’m just looking for a more genuine existence.Sadly it seems in the online world, being genuine is punishable by comment.

Maybe we all need to remember that real life can’t be Photoshopped. That’s it’s OK to grab a pizza when you don’t feel like cooking. That it’s OK if the dog leaves footprints on the kitchen floor. It’s OK if we don’t get the dishes done or let the laundry pile up. Maybe we need to remember that in the over-worked, over-stimulated world we live in, putting all that aside to take that bath or read that book is necessary. Maybe most importantly of all, it doesn’t matter what the invisible online commentators think, no one should base their lives or happiness on the unsolicited opinion of a stranger.

I strive to be mindful. I work hard to be a compassionate, understanding person. I try to remember that in any given situation, it’s not about me, that I shouldn’t take things personally, that everyone has something going on in their life and deserves a break. Even if they are being a total dick.

I’m great with my friends and family. I’m good with the old lady holding up traffic. I’m terrible with myself and I understand the issue with that. I’m working on it, it’s a process. You don’t become the picture of peace and love overnight. But I wonder, does compassion and understanding run out? Do we start the day with a limited amount?

I know it’s with me when I wake up in the morning. I am always most happy in the morning. It’s a new day, a chance to do better than yesterday. I start out with the best of intentions as I am sure everyone does. But then I get to work. And one email, one phone call, can drain my compassion tank in a matter of seconds.

If it is true that compassion is a limited resource, than perhaps the practice of meditation is a tool that can be used to preserve the precious levels of compassion we have and help spread it out throughout the day.  I’ve read that practicing gratitude has similar effects. You notice how the word “practice” is involved in all these miracle cures? Yes practice. Because that that shit is hard. The catch is, it’s not hard around family or friends, or on vacation, or out to eat at your favorite restaurant or shopping. It’s hard when you’re forced to be around people you would never choose to be around, primarily the workplace.

I know there are people who love their job. I’ve experienced it myself. Sadly that is no longer the case for me and I am struggling. The struggle is that I love my job but despise the people I work with. And it’s not even that I despise the people as much as I despise their work ethic and inability to be accountable, to care about the work. Also some people are just assholes. On purpose. Without going into detail about my daily frustrations, I can sum it up in one thought, I don’t fit in. And I’m not quite sure how to deal with that. How do I keep a job I love and find compassion for the very people who push me to my breaking point everyday. How do I go home and not spread that toxic frustration around my home? That’s the struggle.

I’m sure there are people out there who appear to have infinite patience and compassion. I’m sure there are people out there that find joy in everything. I am not one of those people. I need all the help I can get. Come on Universe, cut a girl some slack!

I love football. I love my team to which I am forever loyal. There are no fair weather fans in my house and I’m pretty sure football is in my genes. All of that aside, it’s still not hard to look at the industry and be amazed that the amount of money that goes into a game. I’m not even talking about player salaries. Yes, they make a lot of money to play a game. But those guys put their bodies on the line and risk permanent injury to play that game.

I am talking about the business side of the game. How much money goes into the game itself, the tickets, the merchandise, security at the stadium, all the vendors who sell the food and beer, the staff that cleans and maintain the stadiums, the people that keep the parking lots on order.The amount of money that goes into sports gambling is enormous. The online sports gambling sites alone are billion dollar companies. Then there are the analysts, the commentators, the people on the fields with microphones. After all that we haven’t even touched the real money makers, the NFL itself. I read somewhere that the NFL signed a $400 million dollar contract with Microsoft so that everyone on the sidelines would use a Surface tablet. And don’t forget the television networks, the cost of airing the games, or buying those cable and satellite packages. Billions of dollars. For a game. Amazing.

Let’s just say for a second that instead of football, or baseball, or basketball, the teams we cheered for and spent money on were teams of scientists looking for a cure for cancer or finding a clean energy source. Or maybe they would be teams of people trying to help the homeless or pay college tuition or fight to save the rain forests or coral reefs.

I’m not an extremist by any means, I’ve never picketed or protested, I don’t have a “save the whales” t-shirt. Although a part of me wishes I was. My point is, we spend a lot of money on a game. What if we spent it something that lasted longer than a couple hours?

I haven’t written here in a while. I guess I am not sure what I should write. I started a blog because I have thoughts. So. Many. Thoughts. Just ask my husband, this morning I talked for a solid twenty minutes about the obvious inability of the snow plow drivers to think for themselves otherwise our road would’ve been plowed a week ago. He’s such a great listener and for that I am lucky. But I don’t want to take advantage. I don’t want him or anyone else to ever think, “God, just shut up for once.” So why not start a blog right? Everyone’s doing it! So I did too. But where do you go from here?

As with most things I probably just read too much into things. After all this is anonymous right? There is no way anyone is going to actually read it right? Now I have comments on my page and I have to say, I’m absolutely unprepared. When pondering a possible direction for this site my ever faithful listener said something brilliant, “Why don’t you just write whatever comes to your mind? Who care what anyone thinks?” Aha! Why didn’t I think of that?

I thought about that on the way to work this morning, writing whatever comes to my mind. It sounds easy enough. As I mentioned, there are always thoughts. I think my struggle is that my happiest, most energetic, creative moments are in the morning. Morning is totally my thing. I got to bed early just so I can get up early, before the sun, before the rest of the world. But right at the moment I am able to pull those thoughts together into something coherent, something worth writing down, I have to get in my car and to go work. And just to be clear, I hate my job. But that’s another topic for another day.

So the question is, as I’m sure with a million others, how do I make the time? How do I balance the creative with mundane? Better yet, how do I get more creative and less mundane? I have a stack of books next to my bed that are supposed to be helping with that. I have faith in the Universe though. I have a feeling the answer is standing just on this other side of the door. And maybe this blog is part of that answer. For that reason, I believe today is going to be a good day.

I’ve been reading so much the last few days about terrorists and terrorism I decided to see what exactly the definition of it is. Turns out no one can agree on any one definition. Most definitions include something about using violence or intimidation to advance a political agenda. Seems simple enough. But then I came across some articles about environmental groups who claim a “non violent” approach of destroying property to get their point across. Do they fall into the same category? They aren’t killing people after all. But couldn’t destruction be considered a method of intimidation to advance a political agenda? And what’s considered a political agenda these days? I doubt the true agendas are ever as simple as what is reported on the news.

There is one thing that seems to be a constant in every scenario that fits the description, hate. People aren’t born terrorists. What happens to a person to turn them into someone who is willing to indiscriminately murder thousands, millions, for their cause, die for their cause? How much hate must you have? What does that kind of hate do to a person?

I get it, people are afraid. But do the attacks in Paris really mean all Syrians are terrorists now? And that means we shouldn’t help them? We shouldn’t help human beings in need? Families whose lives are so terrible that they are willing to give up everything and risk their lives at a chance to escape? Because we’re afraid?

So now we hate Syrians. We hate Muslims. We hate. What if that’s the real agenda? What if the real agenda of terrorism is to turn us all against each other with fear and hate. Because terrorists just don’t live in a country across the ocean. They live here too. And Timothy McVeigh wasn’t born a terrorist either. But he had enough hate in him to fit the bill.

My annual work review happened to me today. I think this may be my first bad work review in my entire life. I was told I have a bad attitude. And not just that, but I have anger issues. And I should probably see someone about it.

I was not surprised. And I do not disagree with the assessment. I do have a terrible attitude at work. And I am angry a lot. But the thing is, that’s the not the whole story. And I suppose I could’ve spilled my guts to my boss but that’s not me. My coworkers are not my friends. I like them, I like working with them. But I don’t confide in them. At least not about the real stuff.

The thing is, I feel completely trapped by Life. Like I am on the ground and Life is standing on me with its big heavy boots. Like I can’t breathe, like I don’t have a second of space to notice the leaves changing. Memories from years ago are reemerging, feeling like they just happened. Emotions are so close the surface it hurts when someone touches me. Raw. I don’t know why I feel this way, I just know it needs to stop.

How do you explain that to your boss?

I didn’t of course. I just said I was sorry and I would try harder.